Freudooze

I saw there was a lot of blood oozing. Perfectly red, thick blood on perfect virginal enamel. Why it happened was because

Korean Ginseng didn't work, nor Paroxetine, and steps had to be taken she thought, or so she told me, or some part of her thought and so I was drafted in to do a job, like in football, like a battle hardened veteran.

And something inside of her died, but that was a long time ago, and she had bought the drill to do the job, for there's no point trying to do the job without you have the right tools.

And crimson is beautiful against enamel; rich, warm blood oozing.

She had told me the day we bought the drill she hated shopping for clothes and food, but liked the DIY stores, looking at power tools, again with Freud I said, we both laughed, heartily, both of us.

I liked walking and talking with her, traffic was loud and I couldn't hear exactly what she was saying but it didn't matter too much- I liked just walking and talking with her in the busy streets. All a-bustle with shoppers and Christmas lights and music.

But she bought the drill, and cradled it on the bus home, lovely she looked with a huge red jacket on and scarf, lost and comfortable.

Sleeping later, I brushed the hair from her face and felt the searing heat of her forehead and her burning breath on my face, but when she woke she told me all about her life and times and what she planned to do about it, and how I was to help her, if you call this help and I know you won't but I partly do and partly don't.

Of course I refused but the queer one came to me later that day... the queer one was all full of talk about the Total Absolution Object and sort of against my own wishes and convictions strong as they were the queer one talked me into doing it, with his thumping on the table and trembling in his voice.

And Paroxetine hadn't helped, nor TV, nor merchandise nor catechism, nor extra Paroxetine, nor self-worth nor Dr. Phil, and I was kinda veering towards doing it anyway, for who am I to judge? Just do the job and get on with it, and take your time and hurry up as the man says.

So she woke up then and, it was windy and rainy outside, the windows were rattling and I could hear the cows moaning, and the queer one had drawn on her forehead the spot where I should drill, but she wasn't sure at first but then decided it was the right spot. It was done in bright red.

So there we were in the bathroom and with a bottle of vodka, and I said it would be more worth her while just cutting down on the drink than taking drastic measures like this, and she replied that I was right. And she was mumbling and I couldn't rightly hear what she was saying, something about Carmen Electra, the model.

She had a pretty night dress on, and I had to plug the drill into the wall outside the bathroom, the cord just barely was long enough.

It pained me to do it but once she was fairly conked out with vodka and a couple of pills I done it all right. I tied her hands like she said to stop her fidgeting and took to the drill.